Intergalatic Black Market
by koyoote
Summary: Intergalatic Black Market - No Noobs Allowed. I've decided to make this thing a Kevin-centric drabble thing. No matter what I think of, I can't really think of good Ben or any other character drabbles. If I do, I'll let you know.
1. Imperfection

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He was curious, he knew, and he usually let himself get away with it. But this was a sensitive issue; he couldn't just try it and get rid of it when he didn't feel like it. Besides, he was only on this stupid long-term mission because he'd made a promise. If there was one thing he didn't do, it was break promises. Even along black market alien trades, he was honest about his intentions and never broke a deal unless it was already broken.

This was not a deal to be brokered or a promise of protection. This was Gwen Tennyson, the girl who was currently nipping at the bit to get him to date her. And he had no idea why she wanted him to. Of course he was attracted; she was a beautiful woman now. He hadn't thought she would be the one advancing the relationship.

Kevin was actually quite sure that she would find him repulsive, which was why he hadn't bothered hiding his neutrality towards her. _"Other side."_ Ben was a brat sometimes still, but they could get along if they could find a safe subject or were working against a common enemy. Besides, Ben's school life, soccer, and girlfriend kept him away for a while when he didn't need a car ride. Kevin swore that kid needed to get a driver's license. And a car, there was no way he was driving his baby.

Gwen should've had a busy life too. She was a smart kid, had martial arts classes twice a week, and practiced her spells all the time. But somehow, there was always time to bug him. _"Aren't you done with the rust-bucket yet?"_

No, he was done with it, just felt like improving it. It was something to work on. His car was already perfect; the rust-bucket was something to do while the cousins were at school. _"Are you just using it as an excuse to avoid asking me out?"_ No. Yes. Not really. He never intended on asking her out, where she came up with that idea was a mystery to him.

Didn't she know that a guy can oogle a girl all he wants and not ask her out? Seriously, didn't she notice any of the admirers that she must have? Speaking of – _"Yea, __**we'd**__ love to see your place."_ – that bastard. He knew enough of those guys from the punks his mother dated; plenty of his kind to spare, and so many of them he wanted to kill. At first he wasn't jealous, he could see that Gwen was trying to prove a point. Then he touched her.

That guy just had to touch her. Energy source, my ass. What happened to her powers? What did he do to her? She wouldn't have it. If she hadn't been so blind to him, she would've seen what Kevin saw too. Bastard screwed with her head. That made him angry and amazingly jealous that she'd cozied up to him so quick.

Then again, she'd hugged him – _out of grief_ – the day of the transaction. Maybe she was… No, Gwendolyn Tennyson was not a whore; she was a strong woman who knew what she wanted.

"_When are you going to ask me out?"_

"_Never."_

It was true. She got furious and stormed off, but she probably figured that Kevin was being Kevin. He was, but not what she thought of as him. He wasn't "good" deep down, and he knew that. That's why he wouldn't date her; there's no way that the relationship would keep, and when it failed, it would end in anger and tears. Because he was sure he would make her cry, and he never wanted to see that.

_"Ask me out." "No." "Please?" "No." "Why?" "I'll hurt you." "How do you know?"_

_"I hurt everyone."_ It was true. He hurt his father because of his powers – _"__**Daddy!**__"_ – and he hurt his mother by hurting her husband, and he couldn't stay in school because he couldn't stop being a bad kid. It wasn't his fault; he was no good at being good. Gwen should know, she was reminded of it everyday.

He hurt Ben because he couldn't have a real friend like a normal kid. Freaks couldn't have friends. He hurt Gwen because she wasn't close to him, because he couldn't let her.

He hurt countless millions by dealing weapons, drugs, alien technology, and by dealing himself out as an assassin and simultaneous body guard. Because he was only good at being bad.

_"Where'd your padlock go?" "What?" "The padlock you-" "I'm using it." "For what?"_

_"Nothing special."_ His heart. Because Freaks shouldn't have hearts, they'd get hurt. So he locked it up, threw away the key, and hoped he could live that way.

_"Can I have the key?" "What?" "So that I can figure out-" "No." "C'mon, Kevin!"_

_"I threw it away already."_ She'd looked so confused…

_"What did you throw away, Kevin?"_ She wasn't asking about the key, it was what the padlock was attached to. Whether or not he wanted her to, Gwen eventually made a connection._ "I don't think you really threw it away."_

_"Then how would I have lost it?"_ After all, it's attached most of the time.

_"You didn't." "I don't remember where I threw it."_ He was getting off topic on purpose, and she knew it. She also wouldn't let him get away with it. A small warm hand gripped the cloth over his physical, beating heart as if to prove a point. He looked down at her, disappointed. Surely, she didn't think that just because it felt like it was still in his chest that-

With a single tug to boost her up, her lips touched his. She kissed him, and there wasn't an instant that he didn't immediately kiss back. His arms around her hips; hers wrapped around his neck. When they needed air, they didn't contemplate moving away but kissed again. God, it felt like an eternity to him, she made it last forever.

Gwen's hands slipped lower, smoothly complimenting his muscled physique. Kevin's pulled her closer, groping at her ass and thigh. Between kisses, there was a pause just long enough for him to think. _"You shouldn't have done that."_

_"Why not?"_

_"I won't be able to let you go…"_

_"What if I don't want you to?"_

_"I'm sorry."_ She kissed him again. And he apologized. Between every kiss, he apologized, and she ignored it. Somewhere in her mind, she must've known that he wouldn't stick around that long. It didn't matter. She got what she wanted anyway.

The day that Kevin left because he couldn't stand how much he loved her, he left her the padlock.

Gwen wore it around her neck until she would meet him again. But she still didn't plan on giving it back.


	2. Not for the Weak of Heart

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The first time he returned to his human form, he'd been several lightyears from Earth and surrounded by alien companions. Understandably, they were wary, and his own fear only increased their feeling. As he grew older he'd taken the abandoned gladiator ship and gotten caught up in illegal trade. It was easier than outright killing things, and taught him the meaning of subtlety that had saved his life more than once.

Subtlety was thrown out the window as he practically threw a tantrum in his thirteen year old, very human body. Naked and surrounded by people that were paid for upkeep and intellect was not his ideal situation. Thankfully, he didn't keep around violent company, save for the dealers and merchants. It certainly was strange for him to look up to his inferiors as it was for them to look down at him, knowing that the violent, twisted, criminal boy was really just a child. They followed his orders anyway, he was paying their bills after all, and the promise of protection was still kept.

Needless to say, he didn't broker or make any deals for a long time after the alien skin wore off. He'd tried everything he could to get it back, hating every inch of his soft and vulnerable flesh. Besides, he wasn't one for modesty, but one would not be taken seriously if they attempted to trade with a criminal in their birthday suit. And anything resembling human clothing was hard to come by around Sector 11. He was thankful that one of his underlings knew how to create clothing.

How she did it? He really didn't want to know considering she was a spider-like being and the only clothing he wore for the longest time felt like silk. So, clothing taking care of, there was still the matter of power. Words only went so far and the longer he stayed in human form the more he appreciated it.

For one thing nothing hurt like it used to. His mismatched form had been a single constant agony that he'd eventually gotten used to. The feeling of pleasure had been stolen from him at a young age and some things were remarkably soft on his ship. He was a rich young man after all; black market alien trade was expensive. But money didn't always equal power for aliens, and he'd be damned if he couldn't control the thing that had made him so bloody powerful in the first place.

So, Kevin got to practicing. Considering that they were in the depths of outer space, Kevin really didn't feel like zapping the power out of his ship and practiced a few other things. Fire, ice, energized crystal. Easy stuff, and eventually he could control the properties indefinitely. Then something he hadn't thought of happened.

While preparing for his hand-to-hand training, he leaned against a steel bar of equipment to take a break. The cold metal felt like it had suddenly grabbed him. Oh, he'd tangled and tussled with the seemingly alive metal, only to find that he was tussling with himself. He ended up walking around as a hunk of steel for his fifteenth birthday.

But it was only a matter of time. He found that the absorbing process had expanded, and expanded he did during his growth spurt. Along with his powers, and suddenly climbing stature, his ambitions clouded over his personal discrimination. He returned to Earth to make a deal with Vulkanus. The match fell through, but he came out on top in the end anyway.

His old stomping grounds were so familiar, and the alien presence seemed so startlingly obvious to him. Ignorant citizens walked right past them, had lunch with them, married them. It was so easy to deceive them all. So, Kevin stayed for the most part, using the Earth's sector of the Milky Way as his home base.

Things have always been dangerous for him, and Level 5 weapons felt like no skin off his nose to be brokering when he was barely eighteen. The Plumber was just antsy, probably didn't know about half the underground world that he spent casual evenings with. The Forever Knights and the other strange aliens? They just hadn't paid him. They broke the deal; Ben, Gwen, and the Plumber were just insurance that he would get his dues. The fact that the Plumber had been injured saving him and died because of it? A minor inconvenience that nagged at his conscious enough to actually stick around.

Ben's cousin didn't look half bad anymore either. There were definitely a few pluses to staying on Earth, including intermingling with his own species for once. He liked the car, and rarely had the chance to drive it when he was on his ship. His second in command kept up the trades that didn't involve Earth, but he kept it low-level. It wouldn't be right for the goody-two-shoes kids to find out that he wasn't actually a good guy.

He forgot to mention the food… Dear god, he loved mother Earth's greasy organic food. Everything tasted better on his mother planet. The music could be better, but movies were a thing that he'd missed out on. Most aliens didn't understand that form of entertainment, and it was probably half the reason why so many people were fat on Earth. But he had missed it. Books were never his specialty but he'd learned enough of any language to read a technician's manual. Seeing a thing in his own tongue was fairly pleasing.

Kevin almost didn't want to leave. Never sometimes when he looked into Gwen's vibrant green eyes. Then he saw the same eyes in the "heroic" Ben.

He promised himself and his alien crew that when the mission was over, everything was over.

He could not afford connections, allies, friends in his line of work.

When the mission ended, so would everything that had grown between them.

This he was sure of.


	3. Buzz Kill

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It was one of the few pleasures in life that he had allowed himself while captaining his ship. Liquor: sweet glorious release. One of the few things in the world that the aliens really got right and it was in constant supply while he was dealing.

Unfortunately, Earth's supply of alcohol tasted like old socks after tasting alien specialties for most of his teen life. The best thing about the alien stuff was that they always made an antidote. At least, the criminals did. It would be no good to end up inebriated when your enemy shows up ready to glock you for not holding up your end of the bargain. Antidotes were good things, and like subtlety, had saved his life more than once.

But the alcohol itself was like nothing in the world, especially not the tetrius special. That was his favorite. Picked it up in Sector 8 and kept coming back like a bad habit. They had antidotes you could buy with them, which was good because the buzz was overkill. It's the kind of thing where, if you have the system of a humans' your become imminently and overly drunk off your ass very quickly. Antidotes were good for saving your brain cells.

So when he spotted something strange in his car, he was pleasantly surprised to find that no it was not a "get-well" gift from his latest competitor, but a souvenir from his space crew's latest deal. The tetrius special. Kevin made sure to note this **special** occasion to reward his group sometime.

But his present was forced to wait. **He** was forced to wait for his respite from Wednesday to the entire weekend. He was really close to getting a drink Saturday night when "lo-and-behold" Ben needed a ride for his date. That had not been a pretty picture. Between that snooze fest that was a tennis (ping-pong) match and what they'd been fighting the past three days, he was highly anticipating his drink.

It hadn't been pretty when Gwen found him with bottle in hand. He hadn't even taken his first drink. He really needed that first drink after that lecture that girl put him through. Eventually he got a word in edge-wise and told her he hadn't even gotten a drink yet, which she told him was good because she was "this" close to taking his car and driving Ben to his date herself.

Of course, there was no way in the great wide universe that Kevin was going to let that happen. Needless to say, he didn't get his drink and took out his reservations on Ben, considering it was really his fault after all. And while knowing that her friend had a bottle of alcohol and that he was underage, Gwen found it her duty to ensure that he didn't drink anything Sunday either.

In fact, the only way that he'd ensured that Gwen went to bed that night was by driving her home, ensuring her that he'd already sold the bottle. Because saying that he'd thrown good liquor away sounded phony to the both of them. Being too exhausted to indulge himself, Kevin decided to wait until the kids were at school.

Monday had never come so welcomed in his life. He'd even timed it after he woke up at twelve that afternoon. He knew that he would get an official three to four hours of buzz time before one of them attempted to bug him.

It only took one drink to get tipsy, four and he was high as a kite, relaxing to the sound of heavy metal which only vaguely resembled his favorite alien group in the back seat of his car with the windows rolled down out in the middle of no where. This was the life. This was the life that humans only envisioned were on the shores of Mexico with tequila in hand and a beautiful girl on each knee. Yes, alien alcohol was **that damn** good.

At least, it was until she came around.

_"Kevin Levin! What do you think you're doing!"_ Buzz kill.

_"Kevin, you give me that liquor this second!"_ Talk about your kill-joys. She didn't even wanna try this stuff. Actually, it tastes like molten fire the first time around, but you get used to it. Then she'd grabbed the bottle, prepared to dump it. There wasn't a second to lose as Kevin reached for the other bottle, the antidote, which to Gwen's rage, thought was more liquor. Sobriety came like a blessing as he was able to save the bottle in time.

So she grabbed the antidote and was about to bash it over his car. "Two birds with one stone" was not by any means Kevin's favorite saying from that day on. Now, two bottles at hand and none left to defend him or his car with, Kevin was feeling quite cornered.

It vaguely occurred to him that she was still supposed to be in school. He tried to ask her that in order to turn the tables.

_"It's Memorial Day!" "Since when do you get that day off?" "Senior ditch day!" "Oh."_

Tables not turned.

Seconds afterwards turned into a lecture of morality and whatnot that had him begging for alcohol again. Eventually, after she'd gotten over her ranting and simply glared at him, waiting for a response, the best he could think of was _"Don't knock it till you've tried it."_

She got her second wind apparently. But mind-sentence she stopped due to his glazed expression. He wasn't listening, but was currently bemoaning the fates and gods who were against his inebriation. Why, oh why, couldn't they let him get drunk of his ass for a little while?

When he refocused, he found Gwen's green eyed stare most disturbing. Then she'd asked for a drink. He held it closer; like he was going to fall for that one. She repeated his words to her and then took the bottle from his suddenly loose grasp.

Needless to say, she choked. No, molten fire does not taste good it simply makes you feel good. Throwing him the bottle and a disgusted look, she appeared quite surprised to find her words slurring and her vision blurring. Seeing her waver, he set the liquor down and tried to think of a way to get her to drink the antidote when she promptly fell over him. Holding the topless bottle and her sudden weight was tricky, but he eventually got her seated in the backseat.

When he attempted conversation or at least tried to explain the antidote to her, he only received giggles. Feeling down and highly regretting this situation, he wondered what god he'd pissed off to have his drunkenness oh-so-lovingly shoved in his face. (hah, take your inebriation and shove it Kevin, we're letting the magical black belt girl have your precious alcohol)

What neither he nor the gods planned was that Gwen appeared to be quite a happy drunk. Happy enough to plant kisses on him. As in the light little chaste kisses that she suddenly felt like teasing him with. When his jaw dropped in surprise, she took that moment to press the advantage for a heavier kiss.

Unfortunately, or rather fortunately, after they'd parted, Gwen promptly passed out. Kevin sighed and resigned himself to the fact that he would not be able to get drunk that day (or lucky) and would probably spend the rest of the evening taking care of a slightly hung over Gwen until he could get the antidote in her.

Putting the car in reverse, he looked in his rear view mirror and caught sight of the dozing girl. He sighed one final time.

_"Light weight."_


	4. Perpetual Human Flaws

Drabble – Works off of Imperfection

Drabble – Works off of Imperfection

_"I told you. I wouldn't be able to let you go…"_ Pining. Betrayal. Love. Understanding.

_"Kevin! Stop this! You can still change!"_ Anguish. Realization. Love. Desire.

_"You don't understand. I never changed in the first place."_ He hadn't. It was the truth yet again. Strange, what an honest thief and destroyer of worlds he was.

His words hurt. They hurt terribly, for her heart, mind, soul, beliefs. Everything she'd believed in had changed over the years. The padlock felt heavy, hanging by a thin chain on her wrist. Gwen had believed whole heartedly in the love-struck puppy that had been Kevin so many years ago. But if he was right, it had all been a guise struck up by her own eyes.

She saw what she wanted to see.

_"I'm sorry."_

_"Stop saying that. I should've known."_

_"You should've. I've told you many times before."_ Destruction, blasphemy, rage. All of his actions, yet nothing like him. The deal that she'd interrupted would continue in a safe place elsewhere, and he would stay behind to ensure that the dealers were not followed and to find out how she'd found them. Though his objectives seemed distracted by the mere presence of _her_.

Long black hair shadowed his face in the unlit night, but the familiar action of thoughtfully touching his chin – _she'd put that scar there_ – made her sick to her stomach. The gentle smirk that she had loved long ago tore at her heart. She'd loved him so much…

_"I'm sorry."_

_"What for now?"_

_"You still love me."_ He nodded at the piece of metal kept close to her wrist, her blood, her life. To ensure that she didn't cut the thin skin herself.

_"And you don't care for me at all."_ Why deny what he'd said? They both knew it was true. Suddenly warm dark eyes watched her without a calculating glint; it made her breath quicken.

_"On the contrary, I love you more than anything."_ Her eyes watered, but resisted the emotional act.

_"Then why are you doing this?"_ Her words seemed to fall on deaf ears. His head tilted in a question. 'Doing what?' he seemed to ask. But knowing eyes betrayed his body language. She stayed still, determined not to bite for his bait.

_"You're the one that fell in love with this."_ 'It's not my fault' were the unsaid words. Tears fell unabated. She did, didn't she? Fall in love with the monster of a man in front of her. Yet her angry thoughts betray her, reminding her that he's not a monster. She's met more than enough truly cruel beings in her life to know this.

He walked slowly towards her, purposely giving her room to maneuver and run. She did neither.

He was barely a few inches away, and she flinched at the suddenly raised hand. He didn't hesitate to smooth away her tears.

His warm skin was so familiar she almost gave in. Against her principals, she wanted him again. To see him everyday, to speak and kiss with him, to pine for the future to come.

He kissed her chastely and set her thoughts back into the present deliberately with a few single words.

_"I love you and I'm sorry."_


	5. If Only If Only

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In some ways, Kevin knew that this life was the better one. That this life for his son was much better than it ever would've been with him. Then he tells himself that that's a lie and if he'd put half as much effort into revenge against the Tennysons that he would've been a great father and husband. But the goals and ambitions in his life took a twisted view, and he couldn't untwist them. Sure, he knew his memories and what he used to think, but he couldn't, for the life of him, make himself think like that again. There was too much hurt, betrayal, and heartache.

He watched his son with a careful eye, realizing that Devlin and Ken were what he and Ben would've been, had he been less… Psychotic? Nah. Angry; that's probably the best one. Except he wasn't really angry at much of anything. Just really hurt and that stemmed resentment towards everything and everyone.

Seeing Gwen – _my Gwen_ – scoop up his son and attend to his feelings and wishes made that wound in his chest hurt so bad. He still loved her, and she must love him. She must. Why else would she have stuck around so long all those years? Why else would she knowingly take care of his son, despite the fact that it was from a different woman?

Surely, Gwen stilled loved him. And he wanted that family almost as bad as he wanted that multi-million alien currency to make it to the dealer on time to avoid blood spill. Was it really so bad that he was ambitious in black market things? He was just as passionate about it as the other man who did what he did legally.

Though, he would admit, it was his own fault for dabbling in the alien and illegal kind of trade, especially from a young age. But he'll be damned if he didn't turn out for the better part of that industry, with twice as much cash.

The first present that he bought his son was the hover board, damned expensive at the time too. He'd recently gotten out of the null void and had dropped off the gift in the kid's room. He probably knew who it was from, but Kevin didn't really care as long as he knew that he gave that to him. That he provided for him by sending money to his mother periodically. It wasn't his fault that she didn't spend it very well, and not all the time on their son.

That pissed him off for a while, but after realizing that he could be stuck in the null void by any of those goody-two-shoes at any time whether or not he stopped bank rolling the black market, he let go the anger towards his son's mother.

Gwen would've been such a better choice as a mother. If she still loved him…

The room that they'd given his son was equal to Ben's son. With a bed, dresser, various knickknacks strewn across the room. They were treating him much better than his own mother had. Then again, he'd been afraid of her behavior ever since learning of that woman's pregnancy. She hadn't been fit to be a mother, and he knew it. But her deranged mind thought that it would keep them together forever. Sick, sick person. She didn't even know he watched over his son while in her care. Figured him for an absent father.

Like now, for instance. Seeing into the Tennyson's living space through a couple of windows several hundred yards away, he could still see Gwen looking at Devlin and then looking away with must've been irritation. Kevin, not being vain, genuinely knew that when that look graced her face, she was annoyed with him.

They didn't even know that he was there. He'd have to keep telling himself that to ensure that he wouldn't break up the happy family. Next time they crossed paths, he wouldn't be able to kill them. Again. They had his son for Christ's sake. If that isn't blackmail, he didn't know what was.

Unfortunately, the Tennyson's were just like that to do something out of the goodness of their hearts, instead of for other purposes. Knowing that Kevin wouldn't be able to see his son for a long time while taking care of business, he risked the little trip into the headquarters of Ben 10-K.

The kid should at least know he didn't hate him or blame him for entering the Tennyson family. In a sick, deranged way, he knew that he ought to be proud, though his anger for those people was enough to force away that feeling for neutrality.

The wait was long, though their bed time had come and gone. Devlin eventually entered his dark room, exhausted after a family movie night. So tired was he that he didn't notice the dark-haired figure sitting on his bed in the corner. In fact, he moved straight towards it, until he perceived the irregularity and fully focused. Kevin meanwhile didn't say anything, but watched his son with even eyes.

Fear became evident in the boy, and he swallowed heavily. _"What are you doing here?"_ He asked bravely and boldly. For this Kevin was certainly proud. If only that fear and hatred could've been directed towards Ben. If only he'd loved his son more. If only he and Gwen…

_"I can't come and see you now?"_ The adults shift in posture was almost imperceptible, as it was slightly defensive.

_"You never did before."_ The miniature version of the adult argued. He sounded mostly confused, though defensive as well.

_"You never saw me before."_

_"Then why'd you let me see you now."_

_"Cause I won't get to watch over you for a while."_

_"Why? Going back into the null void?"_

_"No. I have business to attend to."_ His explanation was fairly satisfactory. Devlin had learned early on that his father's "business" was very, very much illegal and shouldn't really be spoken of; nor should it be questioned if he doesn't return later or earlier that expected. Of course, it never seemed that he could tell when he was coming or going.

The silence tensed slightly as Kevin moved. He patted the comforter beside him, and seeing that he was non-threatening for the moment, his son joined him. Of course, Kevin could be abusive if he wanted to be, which was never very often, but staying for so long near him had convinced Devlin that his father was not feeling aggressive.

Devlin's small body did tense as his father wrapped an arm around his shoulders and leaned against the wall, but he slowly relaxed into the fatherly hug. He couldn't recall his father ever doing that before.

_"I used to look after you more often when you were just a baby, you know."_

_"Yea?"_

_"Uh-huh. Your mom wasn't good with little things. Not a lot of patience. The older you got, the better she was. So I started to make more business trips."_

_"Then how come I don't remember you coming to see me?"_

_"I didn't really want to be seen."_

_"Why?"_

_"It was too hard. Living the way I do and then coming home. You know, my rivals could take drastic measures."_ Ah, Devlin realized. His father hadn't wanted to worry about protecting them once he started up his work again. Still, he sent them money, or had an account for them or something. That's what mom had said.

_"So, since I'm with Ken, you won't have to protect me, and I can see you more?"_ he asked hopefully. He didn't appreciate Kevin's amused smile.

_"What does Ken and his family have to do with seeing more of me?"_ Kevin had never called his son a brain, but then again, he hadn't expected much because of who his mother was. If only he and Gwen…

_"Just say that you'll see me around. Please."_

A slight plea. The dark of night. The easy glow of an alien craft nightlight. His son looking up at him with too much hope in his eyes to be of his own blood.

He really did belong with the Tennysons. Perhaps Gwen will take him in.

_"Alright… I'll see ya around, kiddo."_

If only he and Gwen…


	6. Shoulda Coulda Woulda

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He had to admit, it was… Ego bruising. That's it; Cash was an ego-bruiser. The only thing that Kevin could do, sitting there feeling nauseous and thoroughly put down, was remind himself that he _could've_ won. Of course he could've, he simply chose not to. Why?

Because he didn't want to absorb energy anymore, or creatures. All he had to do was _look_ at Cash to be reminded of that. Kevin didn't want to look like a monster again. Not when things were going so well; not when he had a girl who liked him; a guy who was almost a friend; a sweet car; and a black market to bend to his whim without having to actually be there anymore.

Never mind the fact that he hasn't absorbed energy in about, oh say, five years. It wasn't an experience he'd like to reenact. Having electricity constantly flowing through your system is exhilarating, seductive even. He'd been an addict. Of course, he'd forgotten that you can't get rid of it except by not using it. At all.

When he became a monster, he couldn't use his electricity; he hadn't known how nor cared to try. Eventually the buzz and energy that had filled his young years dissipated. And he felt a lot better for it. Sugars and caffeine felt like a much cleaner source of energy; even alcohol and drugs felt slightly better than electricity. You can't really sleep when you absorb energy, you know? The extra energy is a huge buzz in your body, and insomnia is easy to adjust to when you're a street kid.

Now was not a time for insomnia, buzzes, and the works of absorbing energy. It was too much of a hassle. The power just wasn't quite worth it.

And it was so much power, too. The thrill of seeing pure energy eject from your body by your very will is like nothing in this world. It was almost disappointing as well for his life and potential. All of the energy he could've absorbed, and not just electricity anymore. There's radioactivity, alien guns and warfare energy, and even things like Cash's alien suit. Where Cash could be consumed by it, Kevin could've controlled it easily.

So damned easily. He bumped his sore head against the wall at his back. More cement crumbled with it. He couldn't just un-absorb the material now that it had been forcefully removed. He'd have to shed it off like a second skin; yet another downfall to using this less powerful part of his ability. If he'd absorbed the energy Cash had thrown at him…

If he'd absorbed it, the battle would've been over in ten minutes. Less even. But it was seductive, he reminded himself. If he absorbed the energy eventually he'd become reliant on its power.

When he took on steel, concrete, glass, diamond, he could tell it what he wanted and it would listen without complaint. It wasn't alive, like energy. Energy liked having an output; dopamine pressed his brain when the energy exploded out of his hands. Energy liked being recharged; he felt depressed and fatigued when the energy was gone.

Besides, all he had to do was look at the company he kept and everything was okay in his head. Cash was being absorbed by the robot hand and was becoming its slave. Kevin was no slave, and he wouldn't be controlled by something as seductive as energy. Ben could become ten new aliens, adding to Kevin's list of monsters and nightmares. Every night brought a feeling of horror when his subconscious wondered just what those new aliens would add to his _own_ form.

Then he'd wake up, see his still human skin, dirtied with motor oil hands, and be thankful that he hadn't given in to the desire to touch Ben's watch, or absorb Gwen's energy blast, or feel the energy of those level five weapons output, or wonder at the senses he could explore if he touched a different alien that day. He was thankful for his self-control and it was only enhanced by waking up on _those_ mornings.

The mornings where he'd just been beaten by a rival or enemy when he should've beat the shit out of them. _Shoulda, coulda, woulda. Shoulda, coulda, woulda._ There's something about those night terrors, he remembers, that makes being second best okay.

Even as Kevin falls unconscious for the second time that day, he hopes that Ben defeats Cash so that he won't have to resort to _emergency_ measures. He hopes that one day there will never be a need for _emergency_ measures, but the closer he gets to Gwen and to the mission, the closer he feels to that emergency siren. The one that screams at him, it's better to live another day than to die when you could've seen tomorrow. That kind of death is pathetic and unbecoming of an affluent black market young man. His allies and rivals will recall his death with pity. _He could've survived that._

But he could survive it, without energy. He can stand being beaten, but alive, rather than being the winner and loser at the same time. Losing a fight is like winning the battle. When your opponent leaves you in the dust, you know his moves; you know their arrogance and weakness. You can rise up like the phoenix and annihilate them later, simply because you can.

And so, because he can back down and survive for another day, he let himself be beat by Cash. He didn't have near as much to fight for anyway. Reputation was nothing compared to the anger he'd felt when he'd seen his precious car banged up. The things inside were replaceable, but goddamnit if he didn't have Earth insurance and couldn't get it fixed too quickly without making the goody-two-shoe twins suspicious. It was really a lot about convenience and the fact that he'd have to go through so much _trouble_ over something as stupid as Cash's ego.

Beating the shit out of Cash would've been nice and a stress reliever, but not entirely necessary. Perhaps when the kid got that damned alien suit off Kevin could properly intimidate him into paying for the damage to his car. But then again, that was a lot of trouble too. First he'd have to find the kid, watch his routine, catch him in a dark alley, absorb something like steel, make sure the kid wet his pants, then he'd have to go all the way home again. That was just too much hassle over something that he could keep himself busy with while the twins were away at school.

He liked fixing cars anyway. Maybe this time he'd spend a little dough and put the nitrate in the back and see how his baby flew then. Could even have fun doing a little traditional Earthling street racing, and make money for it. But he'd be caught eventually, because Ben might just be stupid enough to touch a shiny new button in the car while they were driving somewhere, or Gwen might wonder where he went to on a certain night and follow just for fun. And as much as Kevin preferred not think of it, he could quite possibly have to give in to the police, momentarily of course. They have no record of him whatsoever in the government anymore; he made sure of that when he came back to Earth. So while they wonder at that, he'd leave a Kevin-sized hole in the back of their prison cell, just for kicks, rather than walk out of there with the subtlety he'd been taught at thirteen.

Perhaps it'd even be on the news and he could sit and get a good laugh while the goody-twins glared at him. Ah, happy thoughts while waiting…

Speaking of waiting, it was starting to get dark out. Where were they? It's not like them to be late for something, nor like him to start to worry, but he'd be damned if he'd be forced to limp home after recovering from what he was sure a concussion. Humbleness could go to hell, he liked having a little bit of reputation among the kiddies. It made sure no one touched his shit, most of the time.

"_Hello? Hey, anyone there?_" He called out a little. There were little chances of anyone actually living in the neighboring buildings and even fewer chances of someone walking by, but any help was better than none.

And none he would get, it seemed. He cursed himself for becoming injuring in the battle, then, if slightly annoyed, started peeling off the steel and shaking off the concrete. It was a slow going process, as every part of himself he uncovered he found some sort of muscle sore or cut. Concrete was really heavy after it stopped melding to your skin. That was the problem with this armor. Whenever someone got a knick it in, the rest didn't stay attached for very long anymore.

His opponents probably thought they'd have to put just as much effort into knocking off the rest of his armor, as they did with that little knick. What they didn't know was that they could put less energy into each hit, because it took less and less to get it off after it detached from him. It also made him slow, if a little clumsy. Energy would be a lot more convenient, but Kevin Levin was always up for a challenge.

Eventually the armor fell away in a pile around his body of dust and shrapnel, leaving a much more sensitive and bruised person in the middle of it. Using the wall at his back for leverage, he slowly put his legs to use and started to stand. His quads screamed from effort and his head throbbed as his knees achingly locked together to keep him standing against the wall.

What he wouldn't give for the one alien Ben had that could deflect those energy blasts. Then he thought of Cash again, mad with uncontrollable energy, and consumed with an alien body.

_It's okay to be second best._

Now if only he could make the walk home to enforce this crazy and semi-noble notion.


End file.
